em, and give
him no chance of success.

What can I say more? Nothing at present; but I will the moment any event
presents itself. My hope is that, after a fermentation, there will be a
settlement, and that peace will arise out of it.

The decree[1] you sent me against high heads diverted me. It is as
necessary here, but would not have such expeditious effect. The Queen
has never admitted feathers at Court; but, though the nation has grown
excellent courtiers, Fashion remained in opposition, and not a plume
less was worn anywhere else. Some centuries ago, the Clergy preached
against monstrous head-dresses; but Religion had no more power than our
Queen. It is better to leave the Mode to its own vagaries; if she is not
contradicted, she seldom remains long in the same mood. She is very
despotic; but, though her reign is endless, her laws are repealed as
fast as made.

[Footnote 1: _"The decree."_ The Grand Duke of Tuscany had just issued
an order prohibiting high head-dresses.]

Mrs. Damer,[1] General Conway's daughter, is going abroad to confirm a
very delicate constitution--I believe, at Naples. I will say very few
words on her, after telling you that, besides being his daughter, I love
her as my own child. It is not from wanting matter, but from having too
much. She has one of the most solid understandings I ever knew,
astonishingly improved, but with so much reserve and modesty, that I
have often told Mr. Conway he does not know the extent of her capacity
and the solidity of her reason. We have by accident discovered, that she
writes Latin like Pliny, and is learning Greek. In Italy she will be a
prodigy. She models like Bernini, has excelled the moderns in the
similitudes of her busts, and has lately begun one in marble. You must
keep all knowledge of these talents and acquisitions to yourself; she
would never forgive my mentioning, at least her mental qualities. You
may just hint that I talked of her statuary, as you may assist her if
she has a mind to borrow anything to copy from the Great Duke's
collection. Lady William Campbell, her uncle's widow, accompanies, who
is a very reasonable woman too, and equally shy. If they return through
Florence, pray give them a parcel of my letters. I had been told your
nephew would make you a visit this autumn, but I have heard nothing from
him. If you should see him, pray give him the parcel, for he will return
sooner than they.

[Footnote 1: Mrs. Damer had devoted herself